Dreams
by Slightly Sinister Sinestra
Summary: Um, another strange onshot. Cid finds a half dead Yazoo and the two share a talk. Character death. Rated for safety.


Discalimer: Um, lets think about this ... I DON'T OWN!

Alright, I had chapter two of Claw Marks all done out, but for some strange reason, i wasn't let upload. T-T. Yeah, bet I was mad! Then i got even madder cause I had to delete it! So, I'll have it up within the next week! Anywayz, enjoy the oneshot!

It was dark when he opened his eyes, but not so that it was choking. Small shafts of light punctured the thick black shroud. And though in any other situation that would have been comforting, here it only illuminated what he had become. And how alone he really was. The hollow was small, formed by a thick pillar that rested just inches away from his head.

It was too small for anyone else to fit. Hell, it was even too small for _him_. He had landed awkwardly curled, which had saved most of his body, but one of his arms had still felt the crushing weight of a ton of rock. He couldn't even move to check for an opening. One bigger than the ones letting in the light. If there was another opening, then maybe Loz had fared the same. A low growl of frustration and pain escaped his throat, though it felt like it had set his lungs on fire to do so.

Hot tears filling his eyes, he rested his head against the cold hard ground. The rocks under his head didn't form much of a pillow. It didn't matter much. He closed his eyes and waited for sleep to come. His icey tomb, alone.

The price of failure.

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He felt it rather then heard it. A low scrape of rock on rock. The pillar creaked and slid down a few milimeters, letting in another shaft of light. It got bigger ever so slowly, as was one on his other side. The rock on his arm was suddenly moved, letting a blinding rush of pain burn its way through him. A harsh cry ripped it's way from his lips, setting his chest alight as it did so.

It hurt. Everything hurt. He bit his lips to stop himself from screaming again, but breathing seemed to feed the fire burning in his chest now. He couldn't hear anything over the ringing in his ears, but the hand reaching out to grab him was obvious even in the dark.

He was pulled out of the hollow, just as the pillar decided to give way completely. He wasn't given time to assess the situation before he found himself face down on the ground.

He tried to get up, but his injured frame wouldn't allow it. He just had to lie here and wait. Maybe whoever had dug him out would help him find Loz, unless it _was_ Loz. Could it be Loz? He almost laughed at the thought. Almost.

Harsh hands were gripping his arms, pulling him to his knees. A hand gripped his chin, jerking his head from side to side no to gently.

Blood shot eyes, and alchohol stained breath. "I'll teach you to hurt my child, bastard!"

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Tifa had refused point blank to let him light a cigarette in the house, and then practically thrown him out when he'd tried to argue. Something about the smoke damaging business and/or the kids. Something like that anyway. Well, who was he to argue, it was her damn house.

So, he'd just started to wander aimlessly because it was actually easier then standing around. He'd started to go in the direction of the Square, changed his mind, doubled back and now had only two cigarettes left. There was something about all this wandering that was somehow relaxing, in a _very_ annoying way.

He sighed, stamping on the butt of his cigarette and walking in the direction he thought would bring him back to 7th heaven. Thought being the operative word here.

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Metalic. Like copper. The thick smell floated through the air. Like blood. He stopped in the middle of lighting a fresh ciggeratte. A crowd of people, mostly middle aged men were standing in a circle around something, cheering. He shrugged and walked closer, cutting his way through the crowd with ease. Something about being able to curse at people politely worked wonders. The smell of blood increased as he drew nearer to the center of the circle.

There, lying in a bloody heap against a wall. Not the one Cloud had killed. But, it was easy to tell by the eyes. Same colour, same slit pupils, and he could somehow tell that the defiance and anger burning within them would've been the same as well.

He strode forward without really thinking. Though he hadn't seen it for himself, he'd heard from Cloud the grace with which all three of the clones fought. How right they'd looked when moving to the rhythm of a gunshot. Therefore, it wasn't right for something like that to be reduced to glaring when these drunk idiots beat the life out of him slowly. Several men watched him approach the body. And one walked forward and clapped him on the shoulder.

"You wanna take a swing at it too?" The words were slurred badly, it was a wonder this man was even standing. He turned to him.

"No. I want you to take your body of cheerleaders and get the fuck outta here."

The man blinked dazedly and then reached out and grabbed a handful of the clone's hair, pulling his head up. "This thing has hurt my baby girl! I ain't leavin' till it ain't breathin'!"

Cid sighed and lit his ciggerette. "You'll get outta here before I make you, got it?" Build yourself up and hope they get scared. Hey, it sometimes worked. Not this time though. The man blindly took a swing at him, releasing the boy's hair in the process. Cid expertly caught the man's wrist and twisted.

There, that did it. Nothing like snapping bones to signal a runaway. And there's nothing like the sight of about twenty men fleeing. He smiled in a satisfied way and walked to the body.

Eyes watched him wairly as he flopped down. No real point in getting the kid to safety, they both knew that. He was as good as dead.

"Cigarette?" he asked, offering the box to the boy. Slim shoulders shrugged with obvious effort. He smiled slightly and let the boy pull the stick of tobacco out of the box between bloodied lips and then lit it for him.

"Hey, gotta have something to relax the thought of dyin'," he muttered, turning away from the blood drenched face. The boy laughed around a slight cough. It sounded like the harsh tinkle of breaking china. He smiled.

"Somethin' funny?"

"N..o. B..ut ye..s."

"Yeah, I know how ya feel."

Again with that harsh laugh. This time, he found himself laughing as well. Yeah, and the others were the drunk ones.

"I w..an..t t..o di..e ... bu..t M..oth..er d..oes..n't w..an..t me."

The stutters were brought on because it seemed the boy's ribs were damaged. Either that or he was scared shitless.

"Yer mother don't want you?"

The boy shook his head, laughing again. "S..he too..k Lo..z a..nd K..ad..aj, b..ut l..eft m..e ..."

"Was it your dream to find this mother, or were you only doin' it because you were told," he found himself asking. The boy shook his head.

"D..on'..t k..no..w. I g..ues..s it w..as a d..rea..m."

He guessed... Yeah. A dream was something you made for yourself. Like his dream to stand behind the wheel in the blackness of space. Every day that seemed more unlikely, but he didn't stop dreaming.

Ash dripped off the end of the boy's ciggerette, landing in his lap.

"Well, if it was yer dream, then I'd say she'd take you." The boy blinked, turning to him, hope and disbelief shinning in his unnatural eyes. Amazing really, how such a simple emotion could turn them into something so human.

He smiled. Something he seemed to be doing a lot, strange considering this boy was an enemy. "Yeah. As long as you want it, then it's gonna happen. She was just a little late in takin' ya."

He turned to the boy, just in time to see the end of the cigarette smolder.

"Your dreams only end when you let them."

So? Was Cid OOC? I don't gots a clue! Well, R&R?


End file.
